Lake Rat Floozy

Dan had never been to this place before. Fox Lake was not really one of his favorite places to play. But this bar was interesting enough. Situated right on the lake, Wokini's was typical of lake bars the country over. Darkened windows, bright neon lights flashing 'Budweiser,' 'Lite' and 'Southern Comfort.' The smell of stale beer and fried food permeated the air, as did cheap cologne. What brought Dan here were not the rave reviews from Metromix, but rather the fact that Donna Morgan frequented this place as a source of young men to satisfy her nasty debauchery. Dan thought, 'What's good for Mrs. Morgan may be good for other married sluts.'

Sipping his Budweiser ("When in Rome . . ."), he could see why. The patrons were typical of that which one would expect to find in a lake bar: beer swilling, overweight men in softball uniforms; bear swilling overweight women in softball uniforms. Of course, there was the mix of those just turned twenty-one, a few sailors, older couples from town or nearby towns, groups of guys in tank tops and Oakley shades looking for loose women, drunk old men in farm seed hats, and divorced women drowning their sorrows in Seven-and-Sevens. All in all, Wokini's was a pretty good place for a woman seeking the attention of a younger man.

Candace Taylor was just such a woman. At forty-eight, her husband had recently divorced her. Several times throughout their marriage, Candace – or Candy, as her friends called her – had failed to come home after nights out with her girlfriends. Don long suspected that she was cheating on him, and his suspicions were confirmed in spring 2004. Candy said she was meeting some friends at Wokini's, and when she wasn't home by midnight, he drove the two or three miles from their ramshackle home to the bar. He found Candy in the backseat of an old, decrepit Suburban. Her enhanced breasts were pulled from her spandex-like mini-dress, which was in turn pulled up to reveal her hairless vagina. Between the lips on her face was thrusting a six-inch cock belonging to one of Don's co-workers; saliva dribbled from her chin. Between the lips between her legs, an almost identical cock stuffed her vagina.

Don needed no further convincing. Without a word, he left Wokini's parking lot, and went home. He pulled two spare locks from his work truck (Don was a carpenter) and swapped them with the ones that were already in place on the home. By the end of the next week, Don's lawyer had filed for divorce, and by late summer his marriage to Candy was no more.

Obviously, sitting there, Dan knew none of this. All he saw was a trashy looking lady who appeared to be in her mid- to late-forties, though moderately well-preserved. Of course, he wouldn't have been surprised to learn of Candy's past history; she certainly looked the part.

The long blond hair sitting atop her head was obviously bleached; Dan could almost see the darker roots melding with the platinum dye-job. Big, gold hoops hung from her ears, framing eyes adorned with heavy liner and eye shadow and lips smeared in hot pink. Long, trim legs poked from beneath a sleeveless, lavender, cotton mini-dress; platform heels with black ankle straps encasing her feet. When Candy turned slightly toward Dan to order another drink, he was able to see gargantuan breasts – obviously fake – almost falling from her dress, her prominent nipples tenting the already stretched fabric.

While Candy was waiting for her drink, Dan got up from the table that he had been occupying alone, and went to sit down next to her. "Mind if join you?" She slowly turned her head towards Dan, and he was able to see the bored look in her eyes. "Tell you what: I'll buy you that drink."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Sure, whatever."

When the bartender returned with Candy's drink, Dan put a twenty-dollar bill on the bar. "Get me one of those, too, and keep the change." When the bartender went off for another Seven-and-Seven, Dan returned his attention to Candy, extending his hand. "My name's Dan."

"Candy," she said, taking his hand. "Nice to meet you, and thanks for the drink." Dan could feel long fingernails along the palm of his hand; looking down, he saw Candy's bright red fingernails – each extending well over an inch beyond the tips of her fingers – retreating from his hand. "You're not from around here, are you?"

'Oh, she's a bright one,' Dan thought to himself. Out loud, he responded, "No, never been up here before. I'm supposed to meet some friends up here, but they're running a little late, so I've got an hour or two to kill." A lie, of course. Dan wasn't meeting anyone up here. He came up here to see if he could latch on to a slutty housewife or nasty divorcee. Candy seemed to meet his requirements for nasty, and by the tan line on her ring finger, he assumed she was recently divorced – otherwise, she was married and on the prowl, and that was okay, too.

"Well, you picked the wrong girl to kill it with," she muttered into her drink.

"Why's that? You want me to leave?"

"No, it's not that. But look around you." Dan swiveled his head, and saw a few of the bar's patrons staring at them, some with smirks. A woman leaned over to her husband and whispered something in his ear, and they both laughed.

Dan turned back to Candy with an inquisitive look. "Why are they looking at you?"

"They're not. They're looking at you. You're obviously not from here, dressed like that," she said, bringing her drink to her lips. Dan's cock jumped seeing her long, fire engine red nails wrapped around her glass. "And they're wondering how long it'll take before you realize who you're sitting with and get up and leave."

"Well," Dan said, nodding toward her left hand. "I see a tan line but no ring. So, you're either married and on the prowl, or divorced. One or the other. So, if you're married, maybe your husband is some sort of Mafia kingpin?" Dan finished with a chuckle.

Candy laughed, too. "No, the other. I'm divorced. Recently. But you're sitting here with me, and most people in this town refer to me as the town whore." Candy said this with only a bare trace of shame in her voice.

"Really. I never would have guessed you were the town slut." He tried to say this with no sarcasm, but wasn't sure if he succeeded.

Candy's sideway's glance confirmed Dan's suspicion that he may have been less than subtle. She turned to face him directly now, swiveling on the bar stool so that her knees pointed towards him. "I was married until a few weeks ago, for twenty five years. I have two kids – both sons – but they're both out of the house now. My husband . . . he, uh . . . he caught me cheating on him last spring, and that was it." Candy downed her drink, and set the empty glass on the bar.

Nodding to the bartender, Dan indicated two more drinks. "Well, that wasn't very nice – of him, I mean. That's a pretty severe reaction for one mistake, don't you think?" Candy leaned in toward him, and Dan could smell the heavy perfume she wore; something cheap and tawdry, which befitted both the woman and the setting.

"It wasn't just one mistake. These people don't call me 'town whore' for making just one mistake. I'd been cheating on him since Don and I – Don's my husband, my ex-husband, I mean – since we moved here in the early nineties." She paused as the bartender returned with their drinks. As he walked away, Candy nodded to his retreating back. "I used to fuck him every few weeks so he'd cut my bar tab in half. Half the guys in here have taken me out on their boats after a night of heavy drinking and used me, two at a time on a few occasions." Dan felt his cock begin to swell even further in his pants. 'What a fuckin' whore,' he thought. 'Exactly what I'm lookin' for.'

Candy continued, nodding in the direction of the pool tables and balcony. "The summer after my oldest graduated high school, I started fucking his friends, and when Mike graduated – Mike's my youngest – I went after his friends next. I could go on, but it would take forever. I can't even count the number of guys in this town between the ages of twenty and thirty that I've been with, never mind the ones from out-of-town, like you. I gotta weakness for young cock."

Dan was quiet for a minute. "I guess I see his point, then," he said, but made no move to leave.

"So that's why they call me the town whore, and all sorts of other names. And that's why they're waiting to see when you get up."

"You mean 'if.' 'If I get up.' And I can't right now." Dan paused, and then quickly continued. "My hard-on's too obvious right now." Candy raised an eyebrow, and a sly smile fleetingly crossed her lips.

"You're saying you wanna be my latest fuck-toy? Is that it?"

"Hmm-mmm," Dan mumbled. "That's what I want." Candy didn't say anything, just stared at him with her grey-blue eyes. "Offended?"

Candy laughed. "Not at all. Young men like you have said worse to me before."

"So? Whaddya say?" Candy's eyes left his and surveyed the scene, seeing who was still in Wokini's and who was watching her; Dan knew what she was doing. "How 'bout this? I leave, and you follow me out in a few minutes. I'll meet you out by my car."

"Yeah, like that's never been done before, and like I've never done it before." Candy was smiling now, and there was life in her eyes.

"Well, I'm leaving now," Dan said, downing the rest of his drink and getting off the barstool. "You can either meet me in the parking lot, or miss fucking my – how did you put it – 'young cock'? – you can miss fucking my young cock tonight." And with that, he turned and left the bar.

Sure enough, the former Mrs. Taylor met him in the parking lot about two minutes after he reached his car. Dan was leaning against the trunk, watching her weave her way through the other cars in the parking lot; she seemed a little unsteady in her four-inch porn star pumps. "Nice car," she remarked as she sidled up to him, running her long fingernails over the hood of Dan's BMW. "Must be rich." Candy brushed her fingers across Dan's chest as she said this.

"Not me. Parents bought it for me when I graduated college a few years ago." Even in her heels, Dan stood at least four or five inches taller than her, and as he talked, he stared down into her cleavage, pressed tightly together by the fabric of her slutty mini-dress.

"Ooohhh, a little rich boy, then," she laughed, running her hand down Dan's chest and across his stomach. "Come out here slummin'? Is that what this is? Trying to fuck some of the white trash from Fox Lake, are you?" She said this last bit as her long fingers closed around the stiff shaft in Dan's pants.

"Seems like it to me." Candy abruptly released her grip on Dan's cock and stepped back, eyeing him. Her nipples had thickened, and her fake tits were even closer to falling out of her tight top. She turned on her heel and began walking back toward the bar, and Dan thought he had overstepped his bounds. 'Shit,' he thought as he watched her firm ass walk away from him, no panty lines apparent underneath the skin-tight mini-dress. But Candy turned to look at him over her shoulder.

"Follow me, rich boy. Mine's the white Honda by the door to the bar." Dan hopped in his car and found Candy backing hers out of a stall, and followed her a few miles down the road that ran along the lake. Candy turned into a parking that sat in front of four or five identical apartment buildings, all painted some odd peach color. He pulled into a stall a few down from Candy, and followed her up a walkway. He caught up with her before they approached one of the cookie-cutter buildings. "Do this often?" she asked.

"What's that?"

"Try to pick up married women for a quick one-nighter?"

"Here and there. When the mood strikes me, and the opportunity presents itself."

"Well, you could have a field day out here. A few field days." Dan and Candy entered her building and walked a flight of stairs. "They call me the town slut, but I know for a fact that some of these bitches put out, too. It's just that I got caught. That's the only difference between me and them."

"In that case, maybe I should visit more often."

"Yeah, well," she started, keying her door open, "visit me. The other hypocritical sluts around here may cheat on their husbands, but none of them are as good as me," she finished. Candy shut the door behind Dan after he had entered, and pushed him against it. Lowering herself into a catcher's squat, she looked up at him with her grey-blue eyes sparkling. "Or as filthy and slutty as me," she hissed, the long, red nails of one hand grasping at Dan's belt, then button, then zipper. The other hand had roughly pulled the knit top down, causing her silicone-injected tits to pop into the open.

Candy ripped Dan's pants and boxers down his legs as he quickly kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head. As her long fingers closed around his now-exposed cock, Dan leaned his body back against the door and moaned as she began to stroke him. "Feel good, rich boy?" Dan could only grown as he felt the warmth of Candy's mouth engulf the head of his cock, her hand still stroking his shaft. "Getting what you came here for? A nasty old whore? How old are you, rich boy? Twenty-four? Twenty-five?" Dan nodded his head, eyes screwed shut. "Know how old I am?" she continued, swiping her wet, pink tongue across the tip of Dan's head. "Forty-eight, rich boy. Old enough to be your mom, Dan."

"That's right, rich boy. I've got a son your age, and you're gonna fuck his mom's face, aren'tcha?" Dan's grip in Candy's hair increased, and he pulled her slutty mouth towards his purple cockhead. She eagerly opened her mouth and let the tip of Dan's cock pass through her hot pink lips. He maintained his grip on her hair, and kept sliding more of his cock between her wet lips.

When about four inches or so had penetrated the nasty mom's mouth, Dan felt her hands on his hips, her long nails digging into his flesh, as she attempted to push him back a little. But Dan continued to drive his throbbing cock forward; he felt the head being forced slightly downward as it hit the back of Candy's throat. Candy suddenly gagged, and Dan pulled his shaft from her throat and out of her mouth.

"Asshole," she said, coughing. But one of her hands replaced her mouth and was busy stroking the young cock before her. She leaned back towards him, and again wrapped her lips around the head, staring up at him.

Dan had opened his eyes and looked down when he heard Candy gag. What kneeled before him know excited him to no end. This forty-eight year old mother of two, with massive fake tits hanging from her chest, had her long fingers wrapped around his twitching shaft, the long, slutty nails gleaming in the light from above. Her hot pink lips encircled the head of his cock, leaving smears of lipstick here and there. Her grey-blue eyes, alight with lust, stared up at him. Dan didn't really want to waste anymore time. Her grabbed her by the wrist and hauled her to her feet, pulling her face towards his. "I wanna fuck you now," he said as his lips met hers, and their tongues intertwined.

Candy broke away from the kiss, and led Dan across the living room/dining room/family room and into her bedroom. She pushed him back on the bed, and Dan moved himself toward its center, settling on his back. Candy climbed on and went to straddle him. Her mini-dress restricted how far she could spread her legs, so she pulled it up so it was out of the way, and planted her knees on either side of Dan's hips.

Dan watched Candy's store-bought tits undulate as she climbed on the bed, and gasped as her cool hand grabbed his cock, stroking it as she adjusted her mini-dress. "Oohhmiigood," Dan moaned as she pulled her dress up and out of the way. As the fabric cleared her crotch, Dan saw her completely bald vagina come into view; a small ring hung from the end of a light chain, which connected to her pierced clit.

"What's wrong, rich boy?" Candy teased as she continued to tug on Dan's heated cock, which was now leaking pre-cum. "Can't wait to fuck my slutty cunt?" As she said this, Candy raised herself up so her pussy was poised above Dan's cock, and began swiping the head across her own cuntlips.

"Love the . . . shaved . . . cunt," Dan groaned. He groaned louder when Candy impaled herself to the hilt – in one effort – on him. She lifted up once or twice to ensure that the young cock was sufficiently lubricated, and then leaned forward, laying down across Dan's chest. Dan could feel the silicone compress and then flatten as she did so. Candy's lips found his ear, and she blew lightly.

"It's not 'shaved,' rich boy. Its electrolysis," she whispered, sending shivers up his spine. "It'll never again have even a single hair on it," she intoned as she began to rock on the rod that was parting her loose cunt lips. Dan's hands moved to her firm ass and began squeezing it in time to her rocking. Candy soon developed a rhythm, and lifted herself a little from Dan's chest, thrusting one of her tits toward Dan's open mouth. "Suck, rich boy. Suck my tits . . . yyyeessss," she hissed, feeling his lips close around a nipple, still rocking on the young cock that was causing her cunt so much agitation. "Mooorrreee, suck harder . . . hhhhmmmm . . . . Between your teeth . . . ooohhhh . . . that's it . . . bite it!" she almost screamed.

Beneath her, Dan thought he was going to cum already. Her overheated cunt was unbearably smooth as it traveled up and down the length of his shaft; the sensations of it made up for the fact that Candy was a little on the loose side. One of her tits, capped with a thick nipple that was currently expanding in his mouth, flattened against his face; he could feel the silicone-filled skin mold itself to part of his face.

Above him, Candy was panting, excited with the young cock buried in her well-used cunt. "You like biting my nipples, Dan?" she panted, one of her hands snaking behind his head and pulling it hard into her cleavage; he could feel the long nails coursing through his hair and scraping lightly against his scalp. "Keep biting it . . . harder . . . a little harder," she moaned, her voice catching in her throat. "Ooohhh, gggoooddd, I love this . . . love having . . . a young . . . hard . . . cock in me.

"This is what . . . got me into . . . trouble . . . in the first place," she continued. "Spreading my legs . . . for young guys . . . like you. . . ." Candy threw her head back and grunted through clenched teeth, "Fuck my nasty cunt, rich boy. Fuck . . . my . . . cheating . . . hole. . . ." Dan could barely hold back; his cock was about to explode inside Candy's roomy cunt, but her own orgasm caught him off guard. "Yyyyeessss!" she screamed, her body shaking violently above him. She was grinding her pelvis against his, brutally crushing her clit between their bodies. Dan reached deeper down her ass cheeks to help her along, pulling her crotch roughly into his.

Candy continued to writhe on him, her cunt impaled on his fattened cock. Dan reached down even further, trying to pull her closer, and one of his fingers came into contact with Candy's asshole. She let out another cry, and her orgasm seemed to renew. "Oooohhhh, ffuuuuccckk, yyeess," she grunted. "Put it in, Dan, put it in me." At first, Dan didn't know what she was demanding. He looked up at her; though the rest of her lithe body was squirming atop his cock, her eyes were locked steadily on his. "Put a finger in my asshole, rich boy!" she commanded, fire burning behind her eyes.